Pride, Prejudice and Pernicious Plots
by displacedtexan
Summary: Miss Bingley makes a last-ditch effort to ensnare Mr. Darcy. Will Elizabeth step aside for her? Perish the thought!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: These characters do not belong to me, for I am not the immortal Jane Austen.

* * *

As Miss Elizabeth Bennet strode along the path to Oakham Mount, her thoughts ranged far from where her feet trod. Luckily for her, familiarity allowed her to travel without conscious direction.

Nay, her mind was happily involved in replaying the most welcome addresses—or, to be precise, _re_-addresses—of her betrothed, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Derbyshire. Her joy in this relationship was magnified by her former belief that his pride would never grant him permission to repeat his uncivilly rejected proposal, even without the consideration of how a connection by marriage to the perfidious Mr. Wickham would afflict his younger sister Georgiana. Her own dear sister Jane, now the affianced of Mr. Darcy's friend, Mr. Bingley, had still held out hope, but then Jane was almost universally optimistic. Thus, until yesterday's happenings, Elizabeth had resigned herself to a future as the favourite spinster aunt to a flock of young Bingleys.

She was exceedingly gratified with her father's decision to keep the news from her mother for the nonce. "If Mrs. Bennet were to hear of Mr. Darcy's intentions so soon after your sister's engagement," he had said, twirling the amber liquid in his glass, "her exultations of 'Ten thousand a year! Such carriages! Such pin money!' might send her into an apoplexy. No," he patted the hand of his beloved daughter, who was striving prodigiously not to laugh at the accurate imitation of the house's matron, "let Jane enjoy the benefits of being the 'saviour of the family' for a while longer."

Shudders had replaced mirth when Elizabeth considered the too-accurate vision of the sobriquet she must eventually bear. "Indeed, Papa, I would not for the world deprive Jane of any honour due her for being so good and patient with the _finally_ decisive Mr. Bingley."

Her father sighed. "Truly, they are both of too compliant a nature. It would be to their benefit to model themselves after you and your future husband; hopefully, not to the extent of losing _both_ my most sensible daughters to the rocks and hills of Derbyshire."

Elizabeth smiled but privately vowed to advise that pair only upon request, considering events of the past year.

As she attained the summit, the glorious view spread before her. She lost no time in using a handkerchief to wipe moisture from her favourite seat, a primitive bench formed by the trunk of a wind-felled tree. While still retaining a primitive appearance, it had been artfully smoothed and sanded to create a seat less likely to snag or stain a lady's skirts.

She settled herself and opened her book then laughed at the sight beneath its pages. "My hem!" she cried in falsetto. "It is six inches wet with dew! Whatever would Miss Bingley say?"

Immediately after speaking, she turned her head at the sound of clattering hoofbeats on approach at what she, ever shy of horses, considered an impetuous pace. Elizabeth was perplexed to recognize her fiancé, for she had expected him to call at Longbourn several hours later with his friend so that they could chaperone the publicly betrothed pair. She rose in haste ere he arrived to ascertain that no stray twigs adhered to her attire.

"Mr. Darcy," she curtseyed, "what a surprise!" Indeed it was, for that gentleman was in much more dishabille than she had ever witnessed. Hatless, his curls had escaped his normally severe style, and he was not clad in a riding jacket; he appeared to wear morning attire.

In addition, his face was discomposed even more so than the day before, albeit in a negative manner. "Miss Elizabeth," he stated shortly, "I did not expect to see you here."

"As I said previously, Mr. Darcy, but that does not necessarily mean that this encounter is unwelcome. Will you not dismount, sir, and join me on this rustic couch?" She indicated the log.

"That would be decidedly inappropriate. We are alone, and if this accidentally clandestine meeting were discovered, your reputation could be damaged."

"Surely you exaggerate," she jested with him. "From this aspect we can espy any who dare attempt to breach our privacy. Besides that, we are betrothed, even if the truth is not widely spread."

His face, if possible, became even more agitated. "I regret to inform you, Miss Elizabeth, that a matter has arisen which requires our engagement to be dissolved."

Her mind raced in frantic fashion. _Has Lady Catherine enlisted another of his mother's relatives to interfere? _Striving to maintain her equanimity, she lightly asked, "You mean to jilt me? I am all astonishment."

"Suffice it to say," he spoke with an indiscernible suppressed emotion, "that once you are acquainted with all the particulars, you, Miss Elizabeth, will be the one to demand an end to our agreement."

That lady took a deep breath. "Since I am apparently to hear an unsavoury tale, I insist that you join me on the ground. Although I am not prone to swooning, I must take precautions to have a strong cavalier nearby should my sensibilities be overcome."

"Speak not in such a lively manner," Mr. Darcy intoned as he nevertheless dismounted and secured reins to a nearby branch. "It is truly a sordid account."

* * *

After dinner, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had celebrated their future sibling relationship with a libation or two; certainly not so excessive as to become inebriated but enough to become relaxed. Mr. Hurst, meanwhile, gently snored in an armchair, having imbibed more wine at the table than the other two combined.

"I must say, Bingley," Mr. Darcy mentioned, reclining in his chair, "I do not envy you settling so near to our soon-to-be mutual mother-in-law."

"Aye, she does dote on her eldest," Mr. Bingley replied. "But then, who wouldn't? My Jane," he continued dreamily, "such an angel!"

"Indeed." Mr. Darcy's brows grew together as he considered the eventuality that Mrs. Bennet's favouritism would transfer to Elizabeth, inasmuch as that she had made a more superior match in society's eyes. "On my own account, I will be glad to be situated many hours away at Pemberley after the honey-month."

Mr. Bingley appeared suddenly sober. "Say, Darcy, you know that I am only leasing Netherfield—"

"I believe I advised you to do so, in order to ascertain if your temperament is suited for country life."

"As Jane and Miss Elizabeth are the closest of sisters, they will miss each other's company greatly after our weddings. Do you suppose there might be any estates in Derbyshire, perhaps near you, which would be available for lease or purchase after the Netherfield contract ends? "

"I shall make enquiry for you." Mr. Darcy tilted his glass and finished the liquor. "It would be not only Elizabeth's pleasure but mine to have our residences within easy driving distance."

"Speaking of sisters," Mr. Bingley extended an arm to his friend, heedless of the yet-undrunk liquid in his glass, "when comes the time, _you_ will be the one to inform Caroline."

Mr. Darcy shuddered. "Truly a fearsome task. However," he grinned, "now I have an even more fearsome fiancée to hide behind. Elizabeth shall have the pleasure to disclose the news when we choose to announce it."

Snorting brandy out of his nostrils, Mr. Bingley laughed. "In verity, a meeting of two strong wills. Suppose you that we could sell tickets?"

* * *

Rejoining the ladies meant enduring the fawning attention of Miss Bingley for another hour or so; it was with great relief that Mr. Darcy retired to his room.

"Mr. Bingley and I shall visit Longbourn in late morning," he informed his valet when he retired to his suite. "Please prepare my riding wear to change into after breakfast."

"Yes, sir," Denby replied before turning his head to cough away from his master.

"Is your health continuing to improve?" he inquired.

The man resumed hanging the coat for brushing. "Yes, sir. Mrs. Nicholls sent up another cup of her efficacious posset."

"That was considerate of her." He nodded. "Be certain to drink it while it still retains warmth."

Denby's mouth twisted. "Indeed. When consumed hot, the taste is less offensive."

"'Tis the way of most medications," commiserated Mr. Darcy. "Go now; I can complete my bedtime preparations myself."

The valet bowed. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, sir. I hope you enjoy a restful slumber."

* * *

The two friends' conversation the next morning was diametrically opposed to the friendly one of the evening before.

"I tell you, Bingley," Darcy's ire rose, "sister or not, I shall not marry her!"

"But she was in your bedroom—in your bed! How do you explain that?" the beleaguered brother countered.

"It was by his invitation!" Caroline Bingley wailed on cue. "Now, after he has had his way, he plans to discard me. Oh, Louisa, it is not to be borne!" She hid her face dramatically on the shoulder of her slighter sister, causing her to sway; Mrs. Hurst soon regained her balance and began to stroke her agitated sibling's back.

"Really, Charles!" Mrs. Hurst chided in a heated manner. "I never would have supposed that your dear friend," she narrowed her eyes at Mr. Darcy, "would behave in such an _ungentlemanlike_ manner."

That person flinched at the stressed word, and Mr. Bingley, not always the most perceptive of people, discerned such. "Why, Darcy," he waved a hand, "was it not you who insisted on installing a new lock on your door and not turn over the key until your departure?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then, in that case, can you explain how my sister gained access to your supposedly secure chambers?"

"All is lost! He has despoiled me!" Miss Bingley cried.

"If he does not do the right thing, Charles, you must call him out."

"Bad idea if you ask me," Mr. Hurst rumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Challenge Darcy?" Mr. Bingley cried. "If we had a duel, whether swords, pistols, or bare knuckles, he would defeat me soundly! Are you either mad or wishful for my death?"

Mrs. Hurst straightened her spine. "If he is not willing to do the honourable thing, then you must. It is your duty; Caroline is your sister."

"Better to have _her_ duel Darcy," muttered her husband, "then we might get a little peace and quiet when he either skewers or shoots her."

Mr. Darcy bowed stiffly. "I am a gentleman and an honourable one at that. Just...let me think!" He stepped out of the room to a babble of joyous crowing from the sisters and a cry of "Darcy!" from his friend. Making his way to the stables, he endured curious looks from the grooms at his inappropriate attire as he mounted and urged Ajax into a gallop before leaving the stable environs.

* * *

Elizabeth's face was pale, but she retained her composure. "So, Mr. Darcy," she finally spoke, "how _do_ you suppose that Miss Bingley gained access to your private chambers?"

"I have thought of naught but that, Miss Elizabeth." Mr. Darcy had eventually joined her on the log bench. "The only other way into the bedroom area is through the dressing room where my valet sleeps."

"And you did not think to secure that room, as well, with a lock?" Her eyebrow rose quizzically.

"It is the location of the servants' entrance, and Denby and I decided that it would be wiser to allow the staff access to deliver hot water for morning ablutions, as well as to clean. The less talk among the help, the better, we thought, not to mention that he is present the majority of the day."

She nodded in agreement. "How long has your man been with you?"

"I employed him shortly after my university days. He has been with me through my father's death and my struggles with mastering the estate. He was privy to my suspicions of Miss Bingley's aspirations and was quite proud to be part of my protection. I trust him implicitly."

Elizabeth pondered the situation some more, tapping a gloved finger to her lips. "Has there been any change—any change at all—the past few days with Netherfield residents, servants, or routines?"

"Not particularly. But wait! Denby is always plagued with a recurring cough during this time of year, and Mrs. Nicholls has been preparing a special tea which has provided him much relief. He had been fetching it from the kitchen, but last night it was delivered to him."

"Yes, Mrs. Hill acquired that receipt from her to aid my sister Kitty, who suffers a similar condition, and it is quite effectual. Ah!" Elizabeth stood, and Mr. Darcy followed suit. "What was Mr. Denby's demeanour this morning?"

Darcy searched his memories. "There was an excessive amount of screaming, both from Miss Bingley and a young maid, who, I know not why, was present as well. Yet Denby appeared to stagger through the dressing room opening only when Bingley and Mrs. Hurst began banging on the main door."

"The locked one?"

"Yes, the one in the hallway. I had to turn the key to let them in, so that entry was still secure."

"Now, let me see if I can set these pieces in order." She began pacing the clearing while her fiancé watched. "Either Miss Bingley or the maid placed a sleeping draught in Denby's posset—"

"The maid, most assuredly. Miss Bingley would not lower herself to visit the servants' area."

"I quite agree. So that person must be involved in the scheme withal." She speared him with a glance. "What is your impression of the maid?"

As a member of the highest class of society not nobility, Mr. Darcy would be presumed to take little notice of other people's servants; however, his assiduously observant temperament overrode that precept. "A young girl, agitated, possibly even overwrought. _Not_ one of the sisters's abigails."

"No," Elizabeth scarcely held back a snort, "it is impossible for me to imagine those two elegant ladies setting a toenail out of line."

"The child did blush brightly and look with fear upon my unwelcome bed partner, so she must serve Miss Bingley in some capacity."

"Come to think of it, when I stayed at Netherfield last autumn—during dear Jane's illness—there was one occasion when a female servant recalled Miss Bingley's dresser back to her mistress."

"A secondary maid?" he asked.

"Possibly a maid for her maids," Elizabeth sniffed. "Miss Bingley must always be superior to others."

"I doubt she retains them long with her temper. The girl appeared affrighted out of her wits this morning."

"Who would not be nervous with the knowledge that they could be discharged at any time?" Elizabeth noted, "And since Miss Bingley would not deign to hire a local girl, returning to London would certainly create a hardship for her. I suspect that she was ordered, perhaps even coerced, into assisting her mistress in the scheme. Poor child!"

"Even if your assumptions are correct, it matters not; the snare yet entangles me. Her siblings saw the 'proof', such as there was, as well as servants."

"Your servant and hers, whom I consider a reluctant accomplice." Elizabeth gave a sly smile. "Your wealth may be well employed in extricating you from this imbroglio."

"Bribery, Miss Elizabeth?" He raised his chin in affront.

"Why would you suppose that, Mr. Darcy? I am the daughter of a gentleman, as well as the niece of an attorney. I would never suggest anything outside the law."

He bowed. "We are not yet so intimately acquainted that I have the ability to translate your every expression. Would you kindly provide an explanation?"

"The truth, Mr Darcy," she planted a finger on his chest and marveled at the tingle which ran up her arm, "is that Miss Bingley, I daresay, is more enamoured of your influence and social position than your person or fortune. Would you not agree?"

He nodded. "Her brother's wealth is vast and her dowry plentiful. Nevertheless, to most of society, the stench of trade is upon her. Of course, it is her grasping and sycophantic personality which truly holds her back from making a decent match."

"In that case, we shall foil her at her own game."

"Hoist with her own petard?"

"Mr. Darcy," she smiled up at him, "such language, even though the words of the Bard! Walk with me towards Longbourn and I shall explain all."

* * *

Mr. Bennet, after his first shock at his daughter's revelation of the morning's events, chuckled at her tale's conclusion. "Most clever, my dear, and quite worthy of your wit. And where have you cached your swain?"

"He is walking his horse in the orchard. Do you think you could send for Uncle Philips to attend us?"

"Nonsense, daughter. Your mother would soon ferret out the reason for such a visit. No," he rose behind his desk after carefully marking the spot in his book, "we shall take the closed carriage and enter the back of his building."

"And what of Mr. Darcy's horse? The animal cannot remain on our land for fear of servants or neighbours espying him."

"We shall tie him to the back of the rig when we pick up his owner. Jem at the stables will put him up with none the wiser." He tapped the side of his nose. "I happen to know that he owes your uncle a favour."

Elizabeth expressed dismay. "I had not thought Uncle so indiscreet in his business."

"Attorney-client privilege is sacred to him. However, Jem shares all after only two ales. Ah! My portable writing desk!" He tucked it under his arm, carrying the book with another.

"Papa?"

"Just refining a bit on your diabolical plan, my little Lizzy."

* * *

Brow furrowed, Bingley read the note then rang for a footman. "Please convey this to Mr. Darcy's valet," he instructed.

The man had barely cleared the doorway before his sisters swooped in. "I heard there was a message delivered," cried Miss Bingley. "Was it from Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, it was," he replied, ignoring her outstretched hand.

"Brother?" inquired Mrs. Hurst.

Crumpling the paper before confining it to the fire, he stated tersely, "He writes that he has gone to London to arrange the marriage settlement." He assumed that the unearthly howls which proceeded from his sisters' throats were screams of joy, but he quickly put a halt to the conversation once they descended from the clouds and began speaking English. "No, you shall not be making calls today," he commanded.

"But why?" Mrs. Hurst asked. "We need to spread the news of the engagement."

"Goodness knows, it will be the highlight of these insipid people's year, if not their lives," Miss Bingley huffed.

"You two need to understand that this is _not_ wonderful news. You have schemed and entrapped a respectable man, and I am ashamed to have you as sisters."

"Schemed?" Mrs. Hurst approached. "What do you mean?"

"After thinking it over, _quietly_," he glared at Caroline, "and at length, I mistrust my first impression of the situation. Consider, through all the years of our acquaintance with Darcy, not at any time has he displayed an inclination to wed our sibling."

"But she was in his room—in his bed!"

"And I would love to know the whole story behind that." Once more he shot daggers at his younger sister. "Did it ever occur to you that the fulfillment of your dream would be the end of Darcy's and my friendship?"

"Nonsense, Charles!" Miss Bingley waved that away. "You shall be brothers; he will not be able to ignore the connection. Now," she turned to her sister, "the first family we must call on must be the Bennets. After all, our brother is engaged to dear Jane."

Mrs. Hurst's brow was creased in concern. "Caroline, how _did_ you end up in Mr. Darcy's room?"

Miss Bingley stamped her foot. "What matters that now?"

"Sister, surely you would not risk our good name to force a compromise? Especially after—"

Interrupting, Miss Bingley spoke as if to herself. "I shall wear the jonquil gown with the Pomona spencer. Now, as to the bonnet—"

"Dear Caroline," Mrs. Hurst interrupted, "I fear that one of my megrims is coming on." She rubbed her temple. "I shall join Mr. Hurst in our chambers and unfortunately will be unable to chaperone you today."

"Louisa! Howbeit, I shall take my maid with me on the calls."

"Remain at Netherfield, Caroline," Charles ordered. "There will be time enough to crow over the locals when the papers are signed."

* * *

Mr. Philips looked across at his new client. "To be honest, Mr. Darcy, I never took you to be one of such a humour. These requirements..."

"Are all legal, are they not, Brother Philips?" Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from the book he had continued to read during the proceedings.

"Yes, yes, there are certainly precedents enough, but these are exceedingly singular."

"Never mind, uncle." Elizabeth patted his arm. "The terms are not likely to be accepted."

"And what is your part in all this?" he asked querulously. "It is peculiar for a woman to be involved in legal transactions, particularly one with such an immodest tenor."

"Now that precept is most unfair, especially since many such enterprises do nothing but limit a woman's ability to do as she wishes. However, that debate can wait for another day. This meeting," she informed him, "is entirely proper, for Mr. Darcy is my affianced, and the other person has plotted to pilfer my husband."

"I say!" He looked from Darcy to Elizabeth. "I never heard a word!"

Mr. Bennet explained. "We were hoping to keep it from your sister, my dear wife, for a while. To stave off her fatiguing raptures as long as possible."

"Just so, just so!" he chuckled. "So this is quite the entanglement. But you are certain that no, uh, 'intimacies' whatsoever occurred?"

Darcy handed him a folded page. "This note, which you observed me receive a few moments ago, is from my valet. Not only were the bedclothes marred by nothing by wrinkles," his cheekbones reddened, "but he espied a maid in the employ of Miss Bingley attempting to make off with them. After questioning, she confessed that she was doing so under duress. He has secreted her in my chambers and has promised that I will protect her from Miss Bingley's wrath for absconding without permission."

"Then," Mr. Philips straightened the pages, "your requirements are entirely justified. My wife and other matrons have always believed that particular lady exhibited airs beyond her station." He chuckled. "The amusement of untying this Gordian knot is payment enough. Now, I shall ensure that all is stated properly and have a clean copy ready for you to sign in the morn."

"And until then, brother," Mr. Bennet broke in, "could we impose on you to let us rest in an empty office? Or even a spare closet? We wish not to be seen by your wife, who would lose no time in sharing the encounter with mine. Also, we must needs ponder on where Mr. Darcy will stay this evening, since he is not travelling to London as he has claimed."

"Easily taken care of. Ever since I let Richard go, I have had difficulty retaining clerks. The upstairs apartment I keep for such an employee is available. Although," he chuckled, "the amenities may prove lacking."

"Not to worry." Mr Darcy bowed. "I appreciate the invitation and will take advantage of it."

"So, Lizzy, it looks like our part in this is finished." Mr. Bennet rose. "Brother, shall we allow my daughter to escort Mr. Darcy to his temporary lodgings? I expect to see you outside in five minutes, my child!"

"Yes, Papa." She looked at her fiancé. "Now that we have it settled, my nerves are coming out. I must be Mamma's daughter, after all."

He took her hands and pressed them. "Nonsense, my dear Elizabeth. You are all that is intelligent and devious, and I find that makes me even more enamoured of you than before. This _will_ work."

"With such assurance, I find my courage rising."

"As it always does upon facing adversity, my dear," he pulled back her glove and kissed her palm, "but I believe our time together is up. I shall visit you on the morrow after the denouement."

* * *

"Charles!" Miss Bingley opened the door to his study before the footman was able to grasp the handle, crashing the heavy wood into the wall. "I heard that Mr. Darcy has returned!"

He winced at the possible damage to the leased property. "Yes. He rode all the way from London this morning and would like to freshen up before meeting with me."

"So soon! He lost no time!" She clasped her hands. "But then," she smiled coyly, "it would not do for his heir to arrive early. I wonder if he wishes to be wed by common license instead of banns."

Mr. Bingley looked at her in disgust. "That is a decidedly unladylike thing to mention, Caroline."

"Pish! I care not a snap of the fingers for that!" She suited action to words. "It is done now, and I shall rule London society: carriage rides in Hyde Park, balls at the finest estates," her hands clasped each other as if in prayer, "Almack's!"

"Is that all you think of the man?"

"Oh, and I must have a new under-maid, for that chit I engaged before we left Town vanished yesterday, and my dresser was most displeased to perform her chores. But with the Darcy funds, I shall employ two, nay, three!"

A subdued Mrs. Hurst entered the room. "Is it true, Charles? That Mr. Darcy has arrived?"

"Yes, sister. He should be down momentarily." He raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you would like to remain, as well, for the discussion?"

"Not particularly, but I feel as if I must." She arranged herself in the chair farthest from her sister, Bingley noticing that she never made eye contact with Caroline. Hurst, carrying a glass of what he hoped was his first drink of the day, ambled in and sat nearby, taking his wife's hand.

When Darcy strode in, hair still damp from combing, he started at the crowd. "I perceive there is a larger audience than I expected."

"Sorry, Darcy," Bingley began.

"Never mind." He handed his friend a folded document. "Did you think on what I asked you in my note?"

"Er, yes."

"What do you mean by that? Oh, just get on with it!" Miss Bingley was almost writhing on her seat. To her displeasure, Mr. Darcy chose to stand by the open draperies rather than share the couch with her.

Bingley's eyes seemed to enlarge to the size of apples as he scanned the pages. In disbelief, he reread the entire document before turning to the window. "Darcy, are you serious?"

"When am I not?" He nodded. "Read it to all."

Miss Bingley's thoughts flew to the conclusion that the settlements must be extremely generous to startle her brother. _Oh, I will be the queen of society. Nothing will be beyond my grasp! Almack's is just the beginning. Presentation to the Queen, dinner at St. James... Wait, what is Charles saying?_

"...for the period of one calendar year, until it is certain that there is no illegitimate issue. During that time Miss Bingley's dowry will be placed in escrow. Her lodging and servant expenses will be paid by Mr. Darcy. All correspondence, outgoing and ingoing, will be routed through Mr. Darcy and may be intercepted and destroyed if necessary. Furthermore—"

"Wait! What is the meaning of this? What is this nonsensical idea, consigning me to the outskirts of civilization?" She rounded on him.

Mr. Darcy raised an elegant eyebrow. "'Outskirts of civilization' would most likely refer to the Canadian wilderness. However, renewed problems with our former colonies to the south of them make that too perilous a locale. My manor in Wales is both safe and secluded."

"But to what purpose?" she argued.

"I have more than one witness to verify that there were no, er, 'emissions' of any sort on my bedclothes following that evening. There are two conclusions to be drawn: either nothing happened between the two of us, or something previously happened with you and another man."

"Well, I never!"

"You tried with me," he shot back. "I am not willing to give another person's by-blow the Darcy name. Should you give birth to such a child, your dowry will be released back into either your or your brother's keeping and the betrothal will be nullified."

Caroline stewed as she pondered this situation. There was no way that she was with child, but to wait an entire year—! She closed her eyes and considered the extra time now available to design a wedding that would be the envy of all who snubbed her before. Taking a deep breath, she tersely responded, "I accept those terms."

"Excellent," Darcy said. "Bingley, continue."

After fumbling to find where he left off in the document, he was interrupted by his sister after less than two paragraphs.

"A _private_ wedding? What of London? Society? St George's?"

"What difference does it make, Caroline?" her brother asked with acerbity. "You would be married nonetheless."

"All the difference in the world! They can all see that the woman at whom they looked down their noses has triumphed." Seeing that argument gained her no favour, she attempted a different tack. "It might negatively impact dear Georgiana's chances to make a respectable Ton marriage."

"This will affect Georgiana in a most negligible manner. She has noble relations who will pave her way in Society."

"Why, what would the Earl and Countess of ― have to say about their nephew behaving so abominably?"

"My noble aunt and uncle will say nothing. After all, they will never meet you."

"_What?!_" she screeched.

"Bingley." He nodded.

His friend, trepidation clearly on his face, began the next line.

"Ireland? _Ireland?!_"

"Yes, I have a minor estate there for horse breeding. There is a smallish garden for you to walk around, since I am aware you despise long hikes." A small smile was quickly hidden when he recalled a certain other lady of opposite tastes; any mention of Elizabeth at this time would be counterproductive.

"But I will be the Mistress of Pemberley!"

"That position, Madam, you shall never fill. Heaven forfend that I pollute the shades of Pemberley by bringing home a bride with such close ties to trade."

"You need an heir!"

"None of my properties are entailed. Georgiana and her children are heirs enough for me."

"Exiled! But wait," her eyes grew crafty, "what makes you believe that I will accept such a fate? I can easily travel and escape your rural demesne."

"With what funds? You forget, Miss Bingley, that upon marriage your dowry becomes the property of your husband to do with as he desires. As would you, as a wife. And I tell you now, that I do not desire you, have never desired you, and will never desire you."

"Charles!" She appealed to her brother. "You cannot let him do this to me. Make him see reason!"

He shook his head. "He has the law on his side."

"But he compromised me!"

"No, Caroline," Louisa spoke up, "you compromised yourself. This is all your own doing."

"Hear, hear!" her husband agreed softly.

"The fact is," Mr. Darcy spoke, "the only people who are aware of your so-called 'compromise' are in this room."

"Servants!"

"One is in my employ, and the other is under my protection."

"That foolish maid!" Caroline snarled. "She shall never receive a reference from me."

"She likely will not need one. The Darcy estates can easily absorb another servant, and I have very few who choose to leave their posts. Unlike you, I know how to treat my domestic help."

She ground her teeth at the truth of the criticism but refused to retreat. "And you expect me to simply accept this-this _insult_ lying down?!"

Her brother-in-law unexpected spoke. "'Lying down' is what got you into this mess."

Mrs. Hurst squeezed her husband's hand. "_Lying_ is at the heart of the matter. Caroline," she leaned forward, "during the trip from Town, did you not confide in me that Mr. Darcy had finally requested a courtship?"

"Had I wished to do so, ma'am," Mr. Darcy bowed, "I have had ample time during the past few years. In addition, I would have informed her guardian, Bingley, of such before approaching her."

"He would have," Miss Bingley hissed, "if not for that country nobody with such 'fine eyes'!"

"Enough of that!" Mr. Bingley roared. "You shall not speak such of my future sister."

"I am your sister, too, Charles. Why do you not take such consideration of me?"

"How can you say that when you are in a meeting which would normally be between two men? Come, Caroline, give me an answer. Do you agree to the betrothal agreement?"

"Never!" she pronounced with great volume. Glaring at the impassive visage of Mr. Darcy, still standing in the window. "You are the proudest, most disagreeable man in the country, if not the world. Good luck in finding a complaisant wife in Town, for I shall take great pleasure in vilifying you to all and sundry."

"So be it." Mr. Darcy bowed.

"Charles," she turned to her brother, "determine if either Mr. Henderson or Mr. Edwards has as yet made an attachment. I find that absence has...magnified their attractions."

"Very well. I just happen to have received a dispatch this morning, and this acquaintance mentions that both are unfettered. Have you a preference?"

"Either will do," she snapped. "Whoever is willing to wed me with more alacrity and take me from this backwards rural wasteland." She made a dramatic exit. This time, however, the footman heard her approach and managed to open the door for her to swish though.

"Charles," Mrs. Hurst asked timidly, "are you going to do as she wishes?"

"You heard her, Louisa."

"My dear," her husband said soothingly, "you know that Caroline will never be satisfied until she has her own establishment to display herself as she deems fit. Either of those two men are well able to provide a stage for her histrionics. Bingley," he turned to his brother-in-law, "after the joyous occasion of her marriage, I believe my wife and I will make plans to remove to our own townhouse."

Bingley nodded. "As you wish."

"Charles, if you desire, I can return and act as hostess until you and dear Jane are wed. Mr. Hurst and I can delay our departure at least that long."

"I thank you, Louisa." Mr. Bingley arose. "I suspect that Mrs. Bennet would appreciate assistance in planning and entertaining."

"And having at least one of your siblings present to show approval for the match will please the local gentry." Mr. Hurst rose and assisted his wife to her feet. "I agree with the postponement, although once those festivities have concluded we will depart, as I suspect that we shall definitely be _de trop_ by then." He winked then turned to the other man in the room. "And a good day to you, Mr. Darcy." He bowed. "I suspect that our sister's threats will not affect you greatly, as you have not the need to find a bride in Town."

"What do you mean, Mr. Hurst?" queried his wife as he guided her out of the room.

"I will explain it to you later, my dear."

Mr. Bingley let out a long breath. "I cannot believe it. Both of us will soon be free of Caroline. I wondered why you instructed me to ascertain the marital status of her past suitors."

"All the better that the idea came from her." Mr. Darcy collapsed into the chair recently vacated by Mr. Hurst. "Thank God this worked! Despite my assurances to Elizabeth, I still had my doubts."

"Miss Elizabeth? No wonder this contract was so deviously clever. You may be intelligent, Darcy, but your bride trumps us both. Thank goodness I did not fall in love with her! I would have felt woefully inadequate."

"Nonsense, Bingley. She is shrewd enough to have you believe that you have a mind the equivalent of Aristotle while leading you around by the nose. Nevertheless, had that occurred, our friendship would definitely have ended, for I would have ended up purloining her from you."

* * *

Mr. Darcy took the earliest opportunity to inform Mr. Bennet of the plot's successful culmination via a brief note, and, after several uncomfortable hours at Netherfield, he joined the party at Longbourn in person. His friend, however, had no such recourse and conveyed an apologetic letter to Miss Bennet.

Jane, having been informed earlier of Miss Bingley's machinations, had, for once, found it well nigh impossible to say anything positive about that person. She finally managed, "Perhaps she will be happy in her marriage."

"Dear Jane!" Elizabeth had exclaimed. "You are too good for this world. But, as Charlotte once observed, happiness in marriage is purely a matter of chance. Perhaps she shall be lucky enough to find someone between the worthiness of Mr. Collins and the prestige of Mr. Darcy to please her."

Now that young lady trailed Mr. Darcy and her sister as a most lenient chaperone, attempting as she walked to decipher the blotted scrawls of her lover.

"She called you the 'proudest, most disagreeable man in the world'?" Elizabeth's laughter reminded Darcy of silver chimes. "Her emotions are definitely those of extremes."

"Praise the Almighty that they are so protean. Of course, this means I must leave for London as the family is vacating Netherfield to snag her secondary choice of husband."

"It is a necessary evil, Mr. Darcy," she assured him with a winsome smile. "However, Jane and I shall look forward to daily letters from our betrotheds." She glanced back at her sister, now standing stock still as she turned the paper with crumpled brow. "I believe I have the better part of the deal, for I have it on the highest recommendation that _your_ penmanship is uncommonly fine and even."

"My dear, such intercourse is appropriate for Bingley and your sister, but we are not yet publicly acknowledged. So, when shall we brave the delights of your mother and announce our engagement?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Several readers requested an addendum for Caroline's discovery of what happened later. Also, I still don't own Pride and Prejudice.

* * *

**Epilogue, Several Months Later**

Mrs. Edwards (née Bingley) rose at the usual late morning time and rang for her personal maid to bring fresh cool water. The day was going to be another hot one, but then, every day in India tended to be such; so, monotonous, to be sure. However, the more moderate evenings made up for the discomfort, for at least once every fortnight she was able to display the social refinement of which she was so proud. In truth, the former snubbed heiress was now the premiere hostess in Bombay, thanks to her husband's widowed relation.

* * *

Caroline had been aware that the man she had chosen to marry (after that distasteful episode in Hertfordshire) was from a cadet branch of the Earls of ―, although, alas, too distant to be in any reasonable contention for the title. What she had not discovered until her acceptance of his offer was that he was the favourite great-nephew of another family member who had made his fortune in India; one which rivalled the size of her brother's, to be precise about the matter. She sometimes considered that the _haut ton_, which considered one generation removed from trade a reason for shame, was hypocritical for deeming the same palatable with a proper pedigree and the physical distance of a continent and a half.

To further ingratiate himself in his relative's esteem, Mr. Edwards had insisted upon an almost scandalously brief engagement so that the couple could book passage to India as a wedding trip. It was on this voyage where Caroline learned that she had the constitution of a sailor and that her husband...did not. By the time they arrived at their ultimate destination, she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times which she had endured the act of the marital bed, a procedure which distinctly underwhelmed her.

The result of days at sea unencumbered by her ailing husband provided her with ample time to plot her revenge on the dastardly Mr. Darcy. At the first port of call (delayed somewhat because of that despicable Corsican), she posted letters to her most gossipy friends, insinuating that no woman would ever be the object of affection for the man of Derbyshire. In this case, his own standoffish nature at balls and routs bolstered the story's veracity. She had originally planned to insinuate an _affaire _with the countrified Eliza Bennet (not that she would besmirch her name, just provide enough description for the inquiring person to ascertain her identity), but Caroline found that the implication that Mr. Darcy patronized molly houses much more delightful.

* * *

After her breakfast of tea and plain biscuits—soon after their arrival she had been forced to descend to the kitchens and inform the native cook that she would have none of those foreign spices in her good English food—she heard her husband arrive.

"Good morning, Mrs. Edwards," he greeted her, and she held out her hand for a kiss. "The HMS ― arrived yesterday and dropped off a month's worth of newspapers at the offices. Uncle Henry thought you might find it amusing to see what has been happening in London. I must say I miss rainy cold England at the moment." He mopped his forehead with a handkerchief, elegantly monogrammed by his wife.

"Indeed," Caroline retorted, "but men were always clothed more appropriately for the climate back home."

"That's so," he smiled, trying in vain to solicit one in return, "but now the tables are turned, it seems. I say, why don't you go out today and arrange to have some dresses made with the local fabric? It seems like the people here know best what suits for the heat."

"Perhaps I shall," she replied absently, arranging the ironed papers in chronological order, "as soon as I finish these."

"Then I shall leave you to it." He bowed and left.

Caroline did not particularly need new clothing, considering all that she had purchased for her trousseau. Said trousseau had cost Charles four times the going rate for the rush, and half of the outer wear was for cooler weather than she was apt to find here. However, once her body had acclimated to the tropical temperatures of Bombay, she perceived that the lighter airy gowns most pleasant. And if it grew too sultry, why there were servants to pull the punkahs or carry her about town in a palanquin in search of cool drinks of fruit juice and a breeze.

_Come to think of it,_ she narrowed her eyes, _those silk fabrics I admired last week would make such an impact in London's ballrooms; the colours are so garish that I will need to limit them to shawls or underdresses, but wearing them would prove to all that I, the erstwhile easy-to-dismiss Caroline Bingley, am a world traveler and a fashion setter in place of a follower. _She decided then and there to follow her husband's suggestion.

The serving man topped off her tea and left the room to procure more biscuits. _Very well,_ she lifted her cup, _once I have caught up on Ton activities, I will order an excursion to the market. Now, let me see who is in the personal notices..._

* * *

Amrit was so startled by the screams which emanated from the breakfast room that he almost dropped his tray. Kunal scurried from the main dining room, where he had been polishing the silver. "What has happened to the memsahib now?" he asked, his eyes cutting with fear down the hallway.

"I know not," the slighter man said with widened eyes, "but you should tell Bharata-rasoiya to add an extra honey pot to Kali's offering today."

* * *

Mrs. Darcy trembled, and her maid paused in braiding her hair for her morning walk. "Did you hear that?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Yes'm," replied Anna Cole, Miss Bingley's former underdresser.

"I wonder the source of that screech?" mused the mistress of Pemberley.

"Not sure, mum, but whatever it was had a familiar ring."


End file.
